


Stonare

by FireEye



Category: Zero | Project Zero | Fatal Frame Series, Zero: Tsukihami no Kamen | Fatal Frame IV: Mask of the Lunar Eclipse
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:15:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,022
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FireEye/pseuds/FireEye
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the eve of the Rougetsu Kagura, everything is slightly out of tune.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stonare

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Meadz](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meadz/gifts).



> This story, being set in Japan, makes use of Japanese language. Honorifics, specifically, as well as sparse terminology as utilized in the game itself and one compound noun that seemed fitting. I have tried to be consistent with usage and character perspective. I do hope that it comes across well and adds flavor to the text, rather than simply be annoying. :)

The man had been in the courtyard, and in the patient wing.  She had seen him speaking to a nurse in the reception, and ducking out of sight to avoid another upstairs.  He didn’t appear to be here for any meaning or purpose, he merely was.

But then, a lot of them merely were.  Fragments of melodies adrift on an autumn breeze.

And yet, he was different than them.  A harmony moving against the wind.  She could feel it, when he was nearby, and it drew her towards him even as it pushed her away.

Miya liked him, but Misaki wasn’t so certain.

~*~

He had seated himself at the table nearest the wall.  A cup rested in his left hand, and his right scribbled notes in the book that was flat on the table.  All the while, his discerning gaze studied the whole of the dining room.

At first, Misaki had no idea how to get closer without being seen.  From her hiding place, she could see through a tear in the partition without risking being seen, but the room was wide open.

When the piano music started playing, from the other end of the room, she had her chance.

While Ruka, along with Minazuki-san, entertained those gathered for dinner, Misaki crept across the floor, dodging the nurse-on-duty as she turned to listen.  She made it under the man’s table, keeping her distance from his well-polished black shoes.

As she sat at his feet, for a moment, the pandemonium stilled.  Rather than being swept away, the music blended together with the sound of the piano.  She sat, swaying with the measure, entranced.

The table cloth lifted, and she froze.  Peering down at her, close enough to touch, the man smiled.  A slow, friendly smile, full of warmth.  Someone else had once smiled at her that way, and suddenly it didn’t seem quite so long ago.

“Hey, there.”

In a panic, she scrambled, tangling in the legs of the table.  She made it to the hallway, but not unscathed; there was a gaping hole in her, not unlike Watashi no Sendou.  Fear gripped her, and she plucked at the hem of her dress.

“Forget someone?”  She spun around, and took a step back.  But he held out Miya, his entire body swaying as he cocked his head.  “Your the one who’s been following me, aren’t you?”

“I didn’t mean to,” Misaki replied, bowing deeply in an apology.

The man chuckled at that.  “What’s your name?”

She bit her lip, “Misaki.”

“Misaki,” he repeated, voice rough around the edges, but nearly as warm as his smile.  He knelt down to her level, and Miya grew closer.  “Who’s this?”

Again, Misaki plucked at the hem of her dress, avoiding his gaze.  “She’s my friend.”

“Yeah?”  When she didn’t reply, he asked, “Does she have a name?”

Misaki shifted her weight and glanced to the man’s face.  Rather than answer, she grabbed Miya and ran.

They didn’t look back.

~*~

It was early morning, and she noticed him watching her.  They were playing tag in the garden, but Misaki snuck off, finding her way up to the balcony to talk to him.  Before she could change her mind, Miya pushed her onward.

“Mi-chan.  Kirishima,” he introduced himself, dipping his head.  “My pleasure.”

“You’re not sick,” Misaki said, matter-of-fact.  Miya had told her so.

“No.”  He smiled.  “I’m not sick.”

“Are you here for the Festival?”

“No,” he answered leisurely, scratching a sudden itch along his jaw.  “I’m a detective.  I’m... investigating.”

“What’s that?”

“I’m, uh...”  The itch migrated to his neck, and he rubbed toward his shoulder.  “I’m looking for someone.”

“Oh.”  Misaki blinked.  “Why?”

“Because he’s a bad man,” Kirishima-san explained.  He spoke slowly, but sincerely, picking his words carefully.  “A very bad man.  He... hurt many people.  I’m here to catch him so he can’t hurt anyone else.”  He pulled a worn photo from his pocket, and smoothed its creases between his fingers before holding it out to her.  “You haven’t seen him, have you?”

Misaki studied the picture, and the visage of a solemn man stared back at her.  Yet for all his indifference, there was something cunning in his stare, something _knowing_.  For an instant, something flickered in her mind’s eye, then was swept away.  Grabbing Kirishima-san’s hand instead, she pulled him towards the stair.  “Come play with us!”

~*~

She was hidden in an alcove between two decorative cabinets set against the hallway wall.  If he hadn’t paused to watch the sun set out the glass windows on his way downstairs, he wouldn’t have heard her stifled sob.

“Mi-chan?” Misaki huddled deeper into her hiding place, clutching at her doll.  “Minazuki-san was looking for you earlier.”  Resting his hands on his knees, Kirishima cocked his head, at a loss.  “Is something wrong?”

“He’s hurting her.”

“Who?”

All at once, the girl tumbled out of the alcove, causing him to stumble back a step.  “The bad man, he’s hurting her.”  She clung to his leg, burying her face in his jacket.  “You have to help her!”

“Show me.”

 

The little girl led him to the upper wards, through the elevators.  She knew the combinations to security checks he might never have been able to get through alone, and, with everyone gathering for the Kagura... there was simply no one here to stop them.

The room was heavily secure, at the end of a long hall.  Inside, it was a sanctuary – a _home_ , luxurious and hardly befitting for a hospital.  The room was lush and bedecked for living, alive with ordered collections of dolls and books and photos... among the last, Kirishima found a framed photograph of Misaki, alongside an unknown woman who was achingly familiar.  And beyond, a folded partition, and the glass walls of a greenhouse, full of verdant life.

He had entered the room cautiously, but the caution, though perhaps prudent, was unnecessary.

“There’s no one here.”  Turning about, Kirishima found her on the floor.

 

“Mi-chan.”  Kirishima-san knelt to her level.  His mouth opened, then closed, before he finally spoke, “Maybe she went to the Kagura.”  Somehow, he was telling the truth, but he was lying.  Misaki hugged Miya; Kirishima-san hadn’t lied to her before.  He smiled, but it was all wrong.  “Let’s go there before we miss it, shall we?”

As they turned to leave, Misaki caught a glimpse of the full moon through the glass windows on the far side of the room.

Taking her by the hand, Kirishima-san hurried them towards the elevator.  The rest of the world seemed to be in constant motion, yet around him, all was still.  She stuck close to him, watching everything shift in wonder.

_The Kagura is going to start soon,_ Misaki thought idly, as they stood in the empty elevator and shades danced around them.  The thought eluded her as quickly as it had come.  _Why are we upstairs?_

~*~

Something was wrong.  He could feel it in his gut.

Misaki had gone quiet, placated, despite her prior insistence that Sakuya was in danger.  And maybe Sakuya _was_ in danger, if not dead – would Haibara harm his own sister?  It was hard to keep his misgivings in check, but she held on to his hand and didn’t question his resolve.

Kirishima knew he wasn’t _that_ good with kids.

Minazuki-san smiled, but her eyes were weary.  “Thank you for finding her.”

“Madoka is waiting for you,” she told Misaki, and pointed to the girls nearer to the stage.  “Ruka, too.”

Misaki let go of his hand, running to her friends.

She didn’t look back.

As the doors were locked and the proceedings began, Minazuki-san explained the ritual.  How it was old as the island settlement, and new at the same time.

Kirishima listened with half an ear, scanning the crowd.  Minazuki-san soon grew quiet, eyes fixed on the stage, and he followed her steady gaze.  An expectant hush fell over the auditorium as the dancer took her place at the center of the stage, surrounded by the young instrumentalists.

The ritual began.

 

At first, he felt himself drawn to the music, and the rhythm.  Time was lost within fluid movement.  Then, suddenly or at the end of a life’s age, the woman on stage dropped to the ground – dead, along with her accompaniment.

~*~

The doll had been trampled in the confusion.  Kirishima lifted it from the ground, brushing the dirt off its pale face.

He searched the crowd for the children, then Minazuki-san.  She saw him at the same time as he saw her across the auditorium, and he held up the doll.  Her hands flew to her mouth, and she resumed her search for her daughter, her movements becoming frantic.

Anger welled up within him.  For Ruka’s sake.  For Misaki’s.

Perhaps he was wrong, and Haibara You wasn’t on the island.  But, Kirishima swore in that moment, if Haibara’s transgressions and this heinous travesty weren’t interconnected, he would give up police work.

~*~

Miya slipped from his hand, and fell into the darkness.

Kirishima felt the loss, but it wasn’t important.

There were times that he felt Minazuki-san knew more than she said, but every time he pushed such thoughts away.  If she did, she would have... after two weeks, _he hoped_ she would have told him.

Two weeks of silence, and an anonymous tip.  After cleaning up after Haibara’s experiments on the mainland, Kirishima expected the worst.  Losing the doll in the dark, forboding caverns was simply one more thing.

He wasn’t going to find her.  _It._   The doll.  He pulled himself together, and stopped searching the rough cave floor. He was going to find them.

The doll was unimportant.

The light of his flashlight waned.  As he turned the corner, pale light cut through the ceiling, spilling into the caverns below.  And below, five children stood still – as though carved, delicately, from the surrounding stone itself – soaking in the moon’s light.

As one, they turned to look at him.

~*~

The children clustered about him, as the ferry bobbed upon the ocean.  Ruka curled under one arm; Misaki and Madoka snuggled up together on his lap, rather heavily; Tomoe stretched out under his other arm; and Marie clutching at one leg.

The children’s families – as well as a handful of other villagers – had decided  to leave the island.  For the best, perhaps.  Kirishima now wondered – quite idly, as there was no proof – if Haibara Shigeto was not as twisted as his son.  With an entire island at his mercy.

It was no wonder, then, that Haibara You had eluded him.

Did the islanders know?

Were they complicit or were they afraid?

Did fear keep them from coming forward?

The thoughts rolled in his head like the waves on the sea.

As the ferry docked, Asou came to shoo the children off.  They moved obediently, almost empty, as he directed them to find their parents.  Misaki took her father’s hand, and they lingered by Kirishima’s side as the latter roused from his thoughts.

“We can’t repay you.”  Asou bowed deeply.  Misaki glanced up at her father, then fell under the solemn rapture of the newly risen moon in the sky.  “But you have our deepest thanks.”

He hesitated, as though to say more, and the hair on the back of Kirishima’s neck rose.  The man was haunted.  Grateful, honest, but haunted.

“It was nothing,” Kirishima replied, rubbing the sleep out of his leg before climbing to his feet.  He smiled, patting Misaki’s shoulder.  “I wish...” _no_ , “I might go back some time, find out what all this was about.”

Asou sighed deeply, fidgeting.  Glancing at Misaki, he let go of her hand, to take Kirishima’s in both of his.

“When you...”  Asou paused.  “If you go, be careful.  Don’t underestimate him, and don’t go alone.”

He took Misaki and joined the small, gathering crowd readying to disembark.  If he hadn’t nearly lost his daughter in the past month, the detective may have pressed him for what he knew.

But for now, Kirishima took solace in that the children were safe.  If he had patience, and kept pulling, Haibara’s plot would unravel, in time.

  
**_end_ **   


**Author's Note:**

> Fatal Frame, being an awesome series, can also be somewhat confounding. In a good way, but still I'm never certain what happened when and to whom. For example, I _think_ Miya gets dropped at the Kagura, and not in the Kiraigou chamber where you find her. And then I get confused.
> 
> So~ what I mean to say is that I hope you enjoyed this, even if I'm fuzzy on the details. ;)


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